What now?

With the marking of Sheloshim for the victims in Pittsburgh and the passage of time, an important question is now being raised, where do we go from here?  Or more simply put, What Now? 

In the aftermath of tragedy, it is important to rebuild and move forward.  In response to a natural disaster, the need to rebuild is clear.  Houses, infrastructure, all of the things physicallydamaged or destroyed need to be put back into place, often rebuilt from scratch.  But with a disaster of this nature, the rebuilding is not so clearly defined.  What is the enduring message we want our rebuilding to carry?  

How do we honor the legacy of those taken from us, the outpouring of support from the greater community, the lastingJewish values that have kept our people and our tradition and will continue to do so?  Other difficult but important questions to consider include these:  Anti-violence training prompted someone to ask how can she run to safety, when saving herself means she leaves behind the more vulnerable?  Another question, how do we practice hospitality and welcome people into our Jewish homes (synagogues), when the front door is locked or attended by an armed guard?  How can we feel safe when anti-Semitic incidents are not only on the rise, but  finding new levels of public acceptance?

There is an urge to rebuild the physical structures quickly, to return to normal and stand up to the hatred with defiance.   But there was an important lesson learned from rebuilding lower Manhattan post 9/11.  The deliberate but protracted process achieved amazing results.  What was no longer is and recreating something from before does not acknowledge the event that has irrevocably changed us.  The memorials honor the event and the human tragedy as well as the spirit of courage, hope and love.  So too, the Shanksville memorial that I visited on my return from Pittsburgh is a moving and thoughtful tribute to the brave men and women on that fateful flight, United #93.  It is prudent to resist the temptation to act too quickly, opting instead for aslower and deliberative process.  The result will hopefully become an enduring symbol of strength, courage, hope and love, the best aspirations of our tradition.  

The process of recovery will take time.  It is a natural desire to try to shorten, if not deny, the grieving process.  But our tradition clearly understands the importance of this special time.  We grieve and then slowly begin the process of reintegrating ourselves into life with the experience and pain of loss a new part of us.  Only then might we gain a new perspective.  And from this perspective, we can create something honoring those we have lost and promoting our values for the sake of the generations to come.

On the Ramparts

The appalling misuse of the Bible to defend stripping children from their parents at the border adds insult to injury, something I would have thought all but impossible given the heinous underlying act.  It makes the indefensible downright obscene.

Whatever our personal position on strong border controls may be, this inhumane action undermines our most fundamental values.  We are a nation of laws, but very importantly we are also a nation of hope.  Our laws can be applied humanely with mercy and compassion.  This egregious violation of our values is a symptom of a growing cancer in our society.

In an age of increasing division and antipathy, this moment needs to serve as a tipping point.  Can we aspire to be the light unto the other nations, leading by example or must we retreat building walls that separate us in the name of protecting us?  History shows us time and again that the latter approach ultimately fails.  And by the time the walls are ultimately breached, what found inside is a hollow shell of the greatness that once lived.

Our greatness comes not from the domination of a ruler, or even the majority.  Our greatness springs from America’s ability to protect and defend the minority when the majority prevails, exercising its will civilly and compassionately.

To those who find the actions on our borders justifiable, shame on you for your heartlessness.  To those who find these actions unjustifiable, our thoughts must be backed by action that will cause change.  Otherwise, we too will be responsible for the horrors wrought upon the children.

 

 

Jerusalem still weeps this Shabbat

As the President of the United States declared Jerusalem the capital of Israel, the various players had expected reactions. Many in Israel cheered, Arab Nations jeered, but really nothing has changed. The President officially recognized the de facto situation; Jerusalem is the capital of Israel. However, peace had not been advancing between parties and it seems unlikely this declaration does anything to move it forward. The two sides remain filled with mistrust of the other and neither is willing to budge from their respective recalcitrant positions. The status quo remains. Jerusalem, the City of Peace, sadly is not at peace.

We welcome Shabbat singing Lecha Dodi. In this mystical song-poem, Jerusalem is anthropomorphized; we prayerfully exhort that she shakes off the dust and embarrassment of a world that has forsaken what she represents to Jews and to humanity. I sing those verses with an ambivalent heavy heart every Friday night, struggling with why peace has not yet come to the place where God dwelled.

Jerusalem remains a city divided and in a state of unrest. Sadly, she is unable to bring unity to her people Israel, or to brothers and sisters who also share a vision of belonging. She is mine, but she belongs to others too. Jerusalem, The City of Peace still remains an elusive dream. An outside declaration or moving an embassy changes nothing. Only the will of those who truly seek her can realize the dream that Jerusalem is a holy center for humankind and the aspiration of peace on earth.

Shabbat Shalom.

The Real Benjamin Netanyahu

 One of the things that made Benjamin Netanyahu and others like him a powerful and persuasive Israeli voice in the US was that he was like us.

Netanyahu was schooled in the US. He spoke unaccented American English and he knew the idioms. He sounded like us. He looked like us and dressed like us. He was one of us. Benjamin Netanyahu appeared to us as a cultured sophisticated erudite person with western sensitivities. He could have come from Philadelphia as easily as from Tel Aviv.

He seemed one of us, that is until now.

 The breach of protocol in accepting the invitation to speak before Congress, the lecturing of the American people and the chastising of the American President before the Congress have created tears in the fabric of the US-Israeli relationship that at this moment seem difficult to repair. No, Bibi Netanyahu is not one of us, nor does he speak for us. In fact he has helped create a rift in the Jewish community while helping to further politicize US domestic politics.

 At this juncture, the best remedy to this situation seems to be a new Prime Minister who can rebuild what has been damaged. This goes beyond the personal issues between the two men occupy the offices of Prime Minister and President. Any future American President will not forget Mr. Netanyahu affront to the office by inserting himself into the American political system. It is hard to imagine how Mr. Netanyahu would be the best leader representing Israel in this critical alliance either now or in 2016 and beyond.